Page 88 of Every Shattered Note
I’ve spent half my life trying to outrun the Vaughn name, and the other half pretending I didn’t want to burn it all down.Victor’s ghost is always one step behind me.Even dead, he’s still here—still making sure I never fucking breathe.
There’s a rustle behind me.Aly moves closer.I feel the heat of her arm brush against my back, tentative, grounding.She doesn’t say anything yet, but her touch is real and present and makes the guilt that much worse.
“Who is it?”she murmurs.
I can’t turn around.I can’t let her see what this is doing to me.
“We need to get ahead of this,” Eddie says.“I’ve rerouted a jet.You’re flying to L.A.tonight.The other one will bring Alyssa to Seattle.The lawyers want a statement drafted by noon.”
“Ed, slow the fuck down?—”
“I’m not asking.”His tone cuts hard.“We need to fucking move.There’s a witness.They’re going public.We have hours, maybe, before this blows open.”
“Who?”I demand.
There’s a pause, long enough to confirm I’m going to hate the answer.“Your brother.”
The word hits like a punch to my chest.Of course it’s that asshole.I let out a short, hollow laugh.“Stepbrother.And Malcom Smith is nothing to me.Or to the Vaughn name.”
Except that’s not what the world will see.They’ll see the story he spins.The bitter son who got left behind.The one with evidence.
“He’s calling it his redemption arc,” Eddie mutters.“He’s implying Victor covered for you and that he has proof.”
My stomach roils.Of course he is.
Of fucking course.
“This is how he gets his book deal,” I say, voice low.“Oprah.Larry King Live.A table stacked with receipts and his name on a paperback.This is his shot at making the world see him.”
Eddie doesn’t argue.Because we both know it’s true.
“Dex—” he starts.
But I don’t answer.
Because Aly is still waiting behind me.She’s close enough that I can smell her, feel the warmth of her body through the sheet.She doesn’t know yet that everything’s about to change.
And when she finds out?
There’s a very real chance she won’t stay.This is how it ends, even when it barely began.
“Don’t,” I snap, rubbing the back of my neck.“He’ll sell anything for attention.His soul, his mother’s lies, mine—it doesn’t matter.He’s always waiting for a chance to crawl out of the gutter and pretend he belongs.”
I can feel Aly watching me, silent.I don’t have to turn around to know the confusion written on her face.The worry.The way her body tenses when she doesn’t know if she should step closer or stay where she is.
“Do they have footage of me?”I ask.
Eddie hesitates, and that tells me enough.
“They’re saying there’s tape from the night of the party,” he says.“You showing up at the hotel.The timeline matches, but I doubt it’s real.”
My heart starts pounding in my ears.
“I didn’t even get there until—” I stop.My voice fractures.“Until after.After he’d already?—”
“I know,” Eddie cuts in.“We’ll handle it.But you need to get out of Mexico.Now.Before this explodes and they think you’re hiding.”
I run my hand down my face, trying to breathe through the rush.
